And Love is a Thing That Can Never Go Wrong
by shinningcitystar
Summary: In her sixth year, Hermione finds herself falling in love with the one person whom she should never have fallen for... MMHG
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The books belong to J.K. Rowling, I own nothing.

The title is taken from the "Comment" by Dorothy Parker

**AN: This story is set in book six. Some of the events will be the same and some I may tweak so they work with my story. This is a Minerva/Hermione story so if that's not your thing, just don't read it.**

The sunlight danced through the curtains, landing softly on Hermione Granger's eyelids. She stretched, eyes fluttering open. Rolling over, she gently bumped into her bed partner.

"Honey, wake up," Hermione whispered, placing a kiss on her lover's lips.

Hermione smiled as said lover woke up with a purr and a grin.

"You could do that again."

Hermione obliged her lover, leaning over and meshing their mouths together – softly at first then slowly increasing in passion, tongues exploring the contours of mouths, hands getting tangled in hair. Reluctantly, the two broke for air. Hermione sighed contently. She leaned her head against her lover of five years' chest, intertwining their fingers.

"You have gorgeous hands," Hermione said.

She was met with laughter – deep and throaty, and a kis on her neck, just above her collarbone.

"If you keep that up, we may never get out of bed."

"Your point?" the kisses continued along her shoulder.

"Minerva!" Hermione laughed.

Minerva McGonagall wrapped her arms tighter around her young lover. "I love you 'Mione."

"I love you too Min."

They sat in comfortable silence until the sound of Celestina Warbeck came from the radio.

Hermione groaned, "I have to get up."

Minerva kept her in a death grip, "No you don't."

"Min, really, it wouldn't do for the Headmistress and her Deputy to not show up for breakfast in the Great Hall."

"I suppose you're right."

"I usually am!" Hermione smirked. She got out of bed and began walking towards the bathroom. Celestina's voice continued to croon. It was joined by the off-key warbling of Lavender Brown.

Hermione sat straight up in bed. That dream was… _heavenly_ – no, odd, strange, completely inappropriate. Hermione mentally scolded herself.

_Studpid girl, dreaming about your Transfigurations professor and mentor – oh my, that doesn't mean I'm a les – does it? No, of course not, it's just my subconscious reacting to lack of sleep._ Hermione shook her head trying to clear it. What she needed was a hot shower. Perhaps the steam would clear her head.

An hour later, Hermione sat with Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table. The boys, between shoveling fistfuls of food into their mouths, were making up answers to their Divination homework.

"Honestly, I don't understand why the two of you are still taking that class. It's a load of rubbish. You should have taken Arithmancy instead, there's an actual, worthwhile _point_ to it!"

"YoudswandlatMagowmall," Ron muttered.

"Pardon?" Hermione snipped.

Ron swallowed, "You sound like McGonagall." Normally Hermione would have glowed at being compared (however snidely) to her favorite teacher, but today it only served to remind her of her dream… Hermione glanced toward the Head table and immediately whipped back around, her face burning red.

"Hey, 'Mione, you alright?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, fine, um… I have to go… library," Hermione all but ran out of the room.

"Library? We've only been in classes three days, how can she already need the library?" Ron asked.

"I don't know mate, but that's Hermione for you," Harry replied.

Hermione didn't go to the library right away. Instead she wandered the empty halls thinking about her dream. What did it mean? Hermione hated the feeling of not understanding something and she didn't understand this at all. Did she have an infatuation with McGonagall? No – that was ridiculous, she _admired_ the Deputy Headmistress, she didn't _like_ her – not in the way her dream suggested. Besides, Hermione wasn't gay. She liked men, after all there was Victor in her fourth year and currently there was…there was… There had to be some guy she liked! Alright, so what if there was no one she had a crush on at the moment, that was normal, it happened to everybody.

Hermione pushed open the front doors. The sunlight danced on the lake reminded her of the curtains and Minerva's hands and those lips on her neck and –

"No!" Hermione cried. She sat down heavily and pulled her knees up to her chin. _Oh my, what if I am a lesbian? _

She sat there for another minute, then she got up and began walking toward the library, perhaps being around books would help her clear her head.

For the first time in Hermione's life, the library failed her. There appeared to be no solution to her problem. Sighing, Hermione gathered up her bag and books. She pushed her dream out of her head, it would have to be dealt with later, and with that, she rushed of to N.E.W.T. Ancient Runes.


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: thanks for the reviews, they are very encouraging. I'm going to apologize now for the length of this chapter, it's pretty short, but the other alternative would have made this chapter extremely long and taken a very long time to write, and I wanted to update. Also, I know the actions of certain characters will seem sudden and out of place, but they will be explained in the next chapters. Anyway, as always: enjoy!**

Her morning classes proved to be a useful and helpful distraction. She had ancient ruins, double charms, and Arthmancy. Already, she had two three foot essays due tomorrow as well as a four and a half foot one due Wednesday. It appeared that the teachers did not waste time in one's N.E.W.T. year and for that Hermione was very grateful – she needed the distraction. Not only from her problems concerning Professor McGonagall however, what Hermione desperately needed a distraction from, was the strange way her friends were acting. Lately it had begun to feel like a chore spending meal times with them. Everyone either discussed Quidditch or the guys flirted with Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny (excepting Ron of course) while the girls preened back. Hermione was feeling a bit like an eighth wheel, but she was hoping she was just being paranoid, besides it was only the third day of school, perhaps it was just summer blowing over.

Determined to not be so negative, Hermione rolled back her shoulders and strode to the Gryffindor table, only to find none of her friends there. _That's strange,_ she thought. _Oh, well, they'll have to show up soon._

Just then she noticed Lavender and Dean walking into the Hall. Halfway between the door and Hermione they stopped and began whispering to each other. Abruptly, they turned and left, without a word to Hermione. She thought that behavior was rather odd, but then again, it was Dean and Lavender. She felt someone sit down across from her.

"Oh, hey Gin!"

"Hi Hermione." Ginny began riffling through her bag, she read something, then looked back at Hermione apologetically.

"Sorry, I have to go see a teacher." With that, Ginny hurried off.

Hermione furrowed her brow – since when did Ginny run off to meet with teachers during lunch and Lavender and Dean ignore her? Her friends were acting very strange. Deciding that it was unlikely anyone else was going to show up, Hermione gathered her bag and books and left the Hall. As she walked up the stairs, she happened to look out the window, what she saw made her stop in her tracks. Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati were all hanging out on the Quidditch pitch laughing and appearing to be having a wonderful time.

"Nice meeting with a teacher Ginny!" Hermione whispered. She couldn't believe that her friends (if they could be called that anymore) would lie to her just so they could hang out on the Quidditch pitch without her. So she wasn't a big Quidditch fan, that didn't mean she didn't want to spend time with her friends.

Hermione suddenly felt as though she couldn't breathe and yet at the same time she wanted to scream. She figured that the worst place to loose it would be the corridor and so, she hurried to the first 'safe' place she could think of – Minerva McGonagall's office.


End file.
